


In Pieces

by 24Stiles



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Happy Ending, I am bad with tags, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 14:35:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/675482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/24Stiles/pseuds/24Stiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek's indirectly responsible for the Sheriffs death.<br/>How does Stiles handle it? What happens to the pack?<br/>And what would Derek give for his mate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> I'm bad with tags! Sorry!!!

Stiles knew he and Derek would have to work, for this to be easy. Though, in this life, nothing was ever easy. They’d had their ups and their downs, the backwards, sideways, and even the completely turned around, but this…this Stiles thought took the cake. His father was out late, having been called into the department because of a murder. From what Stiles was told, his dad went to the scene, investigating with a few other deputies, and they were attacked. An animal, that’s always what it came down to. His father was torn to pieces.

  
There had been a feral Alpha, combing his way through Beacon Hills a week prior. Derek should have ended the Alpha there, but he sympathized because this Alpha was a lot like him. He’d just lost his entire family, to hunters. No, not by fire, but they were captured, tortured and set against each other with a rare wolfs bane mixture. He was the only survivor. Derek took him in, for a few days, got him more under control, and sent him to live with another Pack in Oregon, with multiple Alphas. Derek’s biggest mistake, he let the Alpha go.

The Alpha never left Beacon Hills. He hid out, hiding his scent. They don’t know why he did it, but what’s done is done, and there’s no changing the past. Stiles couldn’t bear to be around the pack right now. He couldn’t bear to be around Derek. He had a bit of mountain ash left in his stash from Deaton. Sure, he lived with Derek, they shared their lives together, but he couldn’t stay there. Not now. Not when he felt Derek was responsible. He’d left the mountain ash in his closet at his fathers. It hurt like hell to be here, but he just couldn’t be there. He lined the windows, doors, any entrance large enough to get through with the powder, and locked everyone out.

  
The pack gave him space. The funeral was in a few days. He’d deal with it all then, he needed some ‘me’ time, to think, to analyze, to figure this shit out. He tried to sleep, but he just tossed and turned in the bed. He didn’t have Derek, his personal werewolf heater there with him, which made it even harder to sleep. Throughout the night, he heard the whines, the scratches at his windows. He ignored them, tuned them out. Eventually, he fell into a dreamless sleep.

 

* * *

 

Stiles had thought a lot the last few days. He kept coming back to the same things. There were options, possibilities, his life and responsibility. He didn’t even realize it was the day of the funeral already, and he still just didn’t know what to do. The funeral passed by. The pack was there, hanging off to the back. Scott tried to approach him first, before it began, but Stiles dodged him, shaking his head and sitting down. Derek came to sit next to him. Stiles moved. _‘I can’t. I can’t let him sit by me, knowing this is his fault.’_ After the funeral ended, his father was buried, and everyone left, Stiles remained. He sat between his parents headstones, head in his hands.

  
“I wish you were still here, both of you. I don’t know what to do. I act like I have all the answers, and then this has to happen. I love you. I miss you. Why can’t you just come home, none of this was supposed to happen. If Derek would have just…Derek, this is all his fault.” Stiles stopped. He blamed Derek. At this rate, he’d be next. Just one more accident that happened indirectly because of Derek… Derek, who slept with the girl that killed his family. Derek, who took away Scotts chance at a normal life, by killing Peter, even though they’d found out later that it was just a myth. Derek, who jumped right in to killing Lydia, killing Jackson, just because they were different, sure Jackson turned out to be the Kanima, but he wasn’t in control of it, didn’t have the option to have control over it like a werewolf did. Derek, who made himself a ragtag team of betas, a pack…his pack, out of outcast teenagers… Stiles couldn’t stay with them…could he?

 

* * *

 

Stiles pulled up to the Hale house, his house for the past few years. He turned the jeep off, leaving the key in the ignition. He knew that’d be a stupid move, anywhere else, but while people respected Derek, and those in his pack in the town, they were still scared of them. They’d never dream to steal from his property, so the jeep was safe. He got out, running his hands down his front, straightening his shirt out, calming his nerves and walked up to the house.

  
He knocked on the door. That should have been the packs first sign of ‘Oh Shit.’ Stiles lived there. He had his own set of keys, and a spare at his father’s house. No answer. He knocked again.

Derek opened the door right after his fist left the door. He stood there in shock. They both did. Stiles couldn’t help but notice that Derek’s eyes were rimmed red. He’d been crying. That threw Stiles off a bit. Derek wasn’t allowed to cry, it was his fault his father died. It was Derek’s fault he was alone in the world.

“Stiles, I…” Derek broke the silence first. “I…” Derek was speechless. He didn’t know what to say. “Come in?” He asked. “This is your home too.”

Stiles walked through the door, stopping just shy of the living room. “Look, Derek. I’m going to make this short. I’ve thought about everything. Everything, okay, and I can’t. I just can’t do this anymore Derek. I can’t say I’m sorry. My father is dead, Derek, I’m alone. I have to figure my life out.” Stiles said, pausing to collect his thoughts.

Derek took this as a sign to butt in, having gotten better with his words in over the years. “Stiles, you’re not alone. We’re here with you.” He took a step forward, carefully reaching out a hand to Stiles, who backed away. “We’re family too. This is affecting us, just as it is you. We know, he’s your father, but he’s like family to us too.” Stiles cut him off.

“Stop talking about him like he’s still here!” Stiles’ resolve breaking, a single tear finding its way out of his eyes. “It’s your fault he’s gone, Derek. I can’t stay here with you, when every time I look at you, I feel like dying. You may not have been the one to tear him apart, but you let that Alpha go. I just can’t be here. I don’t want to see you anymore, I want you to give me my space, leave me alone. I’m going to go upstairs, get some of my things, and I’ll be gone.” He rubbed his forehead with his hand, massaging his temples, and moved to walk upstairs.

  
He packed two bags, clothes mostly, and a few trinkets, leaving the pictures. Almost year ago, on their three year anniversary, Derek had given Stiles a necklace, a simple Triskelion with beautifully intricate design. Stiles knew this was the end, the final chapters of their life closing. He took a look around the room, sighed, laying the necklace carefully on Derek’s pillow and walked out. He walked through the house, stopping at the door.

  
“Don’t follow me. Don’t try to contact me. Just, stay out of my life. Please.” Stiles said, trying not to completely lose it. It hurt Derek the most, Stiles leaving him like that. They were mates. For Derek, there would never be anyone else. Stiles, while he felt the pull of the mating bond, he wasn’t a wolf. He could always leave, and he did. He looked at Derek, one last time, before turning and walking out the door, without even a goodbye.

 

* * *

 

He went to the cemetery a few days later, on a Wednesday. He didn’t know it then, but he’d spend time there every Wednesday for the next few months. He talked to his parents. Sure, they’d died, but he still felt better after going to see them. Even though, nothing could fill the hole in his heart. He had been the quietest he’d ever been, without his dad now. The only time he really spoke, was when he needed to, or when he was talking to them.

  
He didn’t know the state of the pack. He pretended not to care, but there was something inside of him, clawing its way to the surface that just needed to know. He fought against it, tooth and nail. He wouldn’t give in. His life was better without werewolves. His life…his life was his own, for once. He’d gotten quite a bit of money from his father’s death. Donations came in to help the department rebuild, having lost the best of the best with his father that night. They’d set some of it aside for Stiles as well. The poor, lost, lonely boy who’d lost everything.

  
He’d dedicated his time to writing, because it helped him clear his head, to get some of the thoughts buzzing in his mind out. His hair grew. He’d toned up, his muscles now visible. Abs, that he’d never been able to manage before, he now had. Aside from writing, he’d dedicated a fair bit of his time to working out. He’d set up a makeshift gym in the basement of the house. He went for long runs around the town, often times stopping to indulge in his favorite frozen yogurt place, or coffee. He would speak to the barista’s, the cashiers, random people at the grocery stores, but mostly, he stuck to himself. The less people in his life, the better, the less he’d have to lose.

Thinking back to it now, five months later, that’s probably the real reason he’d pushed Derek and the pack away. He’d had plenty of time to come to terms with the facts that Derek would have done anything to save his father. Would have killed that Alpha on spot if he could have known what would happen. You’d never know it, but Derek honestly didn’t like killing. He didn’t like everyone feared him. He wanted acceptance, he got that with his pack, with Stiles. He always tried to do the right thing, and he honestly thought that letting the Alpha go was the right thing. Stiles understood that now. The things he’d said to Derek though, he couldn’t get over them. It kept him from going back, thinking about how Derek would laugh, and the pack would ridicule him and make him feel worse about himself than he does already. Plus, having no one in his life, meant he wouldn’t lose anyone else. No one would be hurt if Stiles died.

 

* * *

 

He honestly didn’t understand how they’d gotten to this point. Once again, there was a trespasser in the Hale Packs territory. Well, trespassers would be more like it. There were five of them. They’d taken Stiles, innocent unsuspecting, unprotected Stiles. Why? He honestly didn’t know. It could have been he was a mated human, without his mate. An easy target or maybe it was a simple case of wrong place wrong time. He wouldn’t know though, as Derek’s roar went through the air. _‘Why is he here, he doesn’t care about me, he shouldn’t be here.’_ Stiles thought. Leave it to Derek, always the savior. How many times did this make it now, that he’d saved Stiles’ _worthless human_ ass.

  
The Alpha picked Stiles’ arm up, fangs elongating, just about to sink into his wrist, when a black blur pushed him off and away from Stiles, into the nearest wall. The rest of the pack flew into the room, each taking on a wolf of their own. Allison ran over to Stiles.  
“Come on Stiles, we’ve got to get you out of here.” She told him. Stiles, still in shock, said nothing.

Four of the trespassing pack was down, dead. There’d be no mistakes anymore, Derek had informed them, right after Stiles left all those months ago. Derek was torn apart, but the opposing Alpha was the same. The sickening sound that came from the opposing Alpha reaching through Derek’s chest, with a silver infused dagger however was enough to pull Stiles’ attention away. Derek, in a last ditch attempt to save his pack, roared something fierce, using the last bit of his strength to surge forward and rip the other Alpha’s throat out…with his teeth. Were Stiles not so distracted, he’d have probably laughed at the irony in that. At least it wasn’t his throat.

  
Derek fell back to the ground now, the threat to their safety gone. He hit the ground hard, barely breathing. Stiles pulled away from Allison, running over to him, sliding on his knees like a pro-baseball player trying to make it to home without going out.

“Derek, Derek, I…What do I do?” Stiles said frantically. The other werewolves coming over and surrounding them “Derek, please…” he leaned over Derek’s chest, one hand over the wound, his face buried in his neck “Fuck, I’m so sorry. Please, you have to be okay.” Derek’s eyes closed.

  
“Stiles, we have to get him to Deaton. We have to get him there now, or he’s going to die.” Scott said, pulling Stiles back, hugging him close. Isaac and Boyd lifted Derek’s limp, lifeless body out to the big SUV they’d apparently gotten recently. They didn’t have it back then.

  
They took him to Deaton. Stiles didn’t know why, but he picked up the dagger Derek had been stabbed with, and took it with him. He just felt like he had to, was drawn to it. He couldn’t leave without it. They left the other bodies lying where they were. They’d have enough time to get them cleaned up, out of the way, before anyone noticed anything. Right now, Derek’s life hung in the balance, and they couldn’t chance that.

 

* * *

 

Derek was alive, that was the best thing. Stiles would have a chance to forgive him, even if he hadn’t forgiven himself for what he had said to Derek. There was just one issue. Derek didn’t wake up. Something stopped him from healing at his usual speed. For all intents and purposes, Derek was almost perfectly human. Stiles sat in a chair, next to where he was set up, holding Derek’s hand in his own, thumb running over his knuckles.

  
“Derek, I need you to wake up, please. God, Derek… I’m so fucking sorry. I just need you to be okay. I need to tell you I’m sorry. I thought you hated me, and then there you were. You’d never really left me, even though I told you to. You saved me.” He held Derek’s hand to his lips now, lightly kissing where his thumbs once caressed. “It was never your fault. You were just doing what you thought was right. I understand that now.”

  
Stiles let the tears come out. He couldn’t hold them back now, even if he tried. “I miss you, Derek. I can’t sleep at night. I’ve been writing, because I haven’t been speaking to people. And I just…I miss hearing you tell me good morning, miss you telling me goodnight.” He sobbed.

Derek just laid there, still. It wasn’t like he’d be going anywhere anytime soon. It was taking so long for him to heal, that he’d still had bandages over the still open wound in his chest.

  
“I love you. I need you to come back to me now.” Stiles whispered, moving to get up next to him on the bed, laying down and tucking his face into his neck. Stiles didn’t know how it happened, but he fell asleep. For the first time in eight months, Stiles dreamt. When he woke, he just knew what he’d needed.

  
The dagger, he needed the dagger. It couldn’t have been normal, after all an Alpha werewolf had claws, they didn’t need daggers. Reluctantly he left Derek’s side, rushing home and grabbing the dagger. He raced to Deaton’s, breaking all the rules of the road, but he didn’t care.  


“Deaton! I think I know what’s wrong with Derek. The Alpha, he stabbed him…with this.” He held out the dagger. “There’s a chip out of it, is it possible it’s infused with some form of wolfs bane? Maybe there’s a splinter in the wound, and that’s what’s keeping him from healing.” He stopped. Looking at Deaton.

“It’s possible. Let me grab my things, I’ll head over to the Hale house with you and take a look, if you’d like” he studied the dagger. He’d have to see what exactly it was that made it tick later. Especially if it knocked an Alpha into a coma for three months, it had to be something specially made.

 

* * *

 

They arrived at the Hale house about twenty minutes later, Stiles rushing into the house and up to Derek, who, of course, was right where he left him.

Deaton removed Derek’s bandages slowly, taking out a small flashlight, a scalpel, and a pair of forceps’s. He opened the wound as wide as he could, searching for anything resembling the piece of metal. There was a growing black patch of flesh, close to his heart. Deaton took the scalpel, scraping the black patches away. He used a damp cotton ball, to get the pieces out. Examining what he’d taken out, he’d found two small shards of the silver, which was probably causing Derek not to heal. Confident he’d gotten it all, after another look, he patched Derek back up, and left the Hale residence.

  
Stiles waited. He waited, and waited, and waited. It’d been two days. The wound was healing up, he’d checked, but it was still slow. Understandable, his body hadn’t been able to heal itself in quite some time. He’d slept in their old bed, his and Derek’s, where he felt the safest.

The morning of the third day, Stiles woke to a clanging sound coming from the room Derek was in. He got up, throwing on a t-shirt and ran to the room.

There he sat, Derek Hale, in all his glory, on the small bed.

“Derek. Hey, Derek…” Derek looked blank.

“Stiles? Why are you here…” Derek looked at him. “You said you didn’t want to be here…”

It was obvious Derek was a bit lost, a bit confused. Stiles helped him downstairs, where he filled him in on everything that’d happened, the shards of silver in his system preventing him from healing and putting him into a coma.

  
Derek understood now. He was grateful for Stiles doing all this for him, when he hadn’t wanted anything to do with him. “Stiles, listen… I could hear you at various times, talking to me. Only you, I think it’s because of the mating bond…but I heard you. I’m so sorry Stiles.” Derek was cut off.

“Derek, I forgive you. I really do. It wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t anyone’s fault but that damned Alpha. I’d have killed him myself if I got a chance to. I’m sorry, I was irrational, and I pushed you away. Even after that, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, but I convinced myself it was for the better.”

“I’ve missed you, Stiles. The pups, they missed you too. It was hell sleeping without you.” Derek told him.

“It was hell on my end too, for the same. I think I upped my record for days awake in one go.” Stiles joked with him. “Derek, I know you’re finally just getting back to yourself, it’s been a rough half a year…but I miss you. I love you. If you can forgive me for pushing you away…I want to come home. I want to be a family again…” Stiles, once again, was struggling to keep the emotions off his face.

  
Derek didn’t even bother, breaking into a million watt full on smile. “I love you too, but I have nothing to forgive you for, you did what you thought you had to. I wouldn’t have let you do something if you didn’t need to do it.” Derek’s face a little more serious now “I don’t know why you’re asking to come home though, as far as the pack and I are concerned, this is your home, you just had to take a break for yourself. You’ve always been welcomed here.” Derek got up, making his way over to Stiles taking his hands in his own. Even with his werewolf superpowers he was still a little shaky, having not had use of his body for months. He leaned down, cupping Stiles’ cheek in his hand, and kissed him. The kiss was slow, but passionate, like they’d had all the time in the world. It felt just like it did the last time they’d kissed, and the first time.

Breaking the kiss, Stiles spoke up. “Alright, Sourwolf, let’s get the rest of the pack caught up on the recent turn of, you being awake!” He said with enthusiasm. “But if you even think about going and pulling another three month hiatus in a silvery wolfs bane coma, I swear, I’ll leave you in it!” he nuzzled into Derek’s neck. “I missed you, so much.”

 

* * *

 

Thinking back on it now, maybe it was stupid to have over analyzed everything in the beginning, but now, he and Derek were stronger than ever, as was the rest of the pack. He had his family again. His father may not be there, but he knew it wasn’t Derek’s fault. He’d still go to see them, talk to them, and sometimes he’d even take Derek.

  
Their lives had been turned upside down, but things were evening out again, and that’s really all he could ask for.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the beautiful [FrownyPup](%E2%80%9Dfrownypup.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D) <3  
> Thanks for the prompt! & keeping me up well into the early morning! :)
> 
> Hope you guys like it! 
> 
> Shameless Self Promotion 
> 
> Tumblr - [LilWolfieStiles](%E2%80%9Dlilwolfiestiles.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D)


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